Put to shame!

We just got our halloween spider put up, when we drove down the street and saw this awesome display.

They have a whole graveyard with ghosts and skeletons and witchy things!

Somebody clearly has Hallowe’en in their hearts. They also have some very nice spiders.

I promise, I will not compete with the neighbors next year.

Although I will get a couple more spiders. Just a few.

I waited too long to prepare for winter

I am resting at home, weak and weary, my knees knackered, because I have been on a quest that sent me staggering all over town. A quest that has ended in failure.

Where it began was the weather, freezing cold, bitter and blustery, conjoined with the fact that my wife labors every night until almost the midnight hour, when she comes home, tired and cold, to fall into bed seeking warmth and rest. I, on the other hand, am already in bed at that hour, and I am well insulated and tending to run hot; I’ve nestled down in snug pocket of sheets, blanket, and quilt, a cozy burrow of comfortable warmth, sleeping contentedly. My wife naturally reaches over to my side of the bed with feet like blocks of ice and fingers like icicles. This is a shocking trauma every night.

I decided to implement an easy, inexpensive solution: a pair of hot water bottles, low-tech and simple. The idea being that they would warm her side of the bed before she got in, she would clutch one to her chilly breast, and rest her frosty toes on the other, sparing me the frosty nightly surprise. Surely, this would be an easy quest!

First I visited the pharmacy on the far side of town. They were pleasant and helpful, and not so helpfully pointed out the shelf where these items were normally available. It is the onset of winter in Minnesota, unsurprisingly, the shelf was empty.

I crossed the street to Dollar Tree, it’s aisles cluttered with boxes and its staff hard at work taking down the Halloween supplies and putting up Christmas decorations. “Already?” I thought, but asked a clerk anyway. They had no idea if they ever had such things.

Disappointed, I trudged up the street to Homestead, a Walmart wanna-be run by a local fundamentalist church. I was reluctant, because I have been in this store before, and it hurts my brain…but at least they weren’t taking down the Halloween displays, because they never put them up in the first place, and their Christmas displays were just the Jesus merchandise they always have on show. They have a housewares section and a pharmacy, so maybe they would serve my needs, even as the constant tinkly worship music battered at my ears, frustrated at my lack of soul. I wandered about, before asking clerk if they had water bottles. “NO!” she exclaimed with outraged confidence, as if she feared I had sinful plans with such a diabolical device.

My last hope was the Ace Hardware store in town, which has an eclectic collection of miscellaneous household gear, but alas, no hot water bottles.

So I have come home, a frustrated failure, and turned to Amazon to order from the wicked Bezos.

They will not arrive until Friday.

I dread tonight, when in the darkness I hear the door open at midnight, and I will lie trembling in bed for the ice queen to slip between the sheets and reach over with Arctic claws to rip down my spine.

The problem with trying to make sense of a bad sci-fi movie

Have you ever sat down to watch a movie and realized, within 5 minutes, that it was going to suck, but you’d walked to the theater and your knees were aching and you just need to sit and rest for a while before beginning the clumsy trek home again, so you decide that letting your brain suffer for two hours is better than wrecking your legs some more? No? Maybe I was too specific.

Anyway, I tortured my self with Tron: Ares last night. I’d seen the original Tron when it first came out in 1982, it sucked then, and I should have known better, but over 40 years have passed and the memory had faded. Now I remember. Remind me when the sequel comes out (yes, it sets up a sequel) that I shouldn’t waste my time.

The summary: it’s a movie about unexplainable magical phenomena gussied up with a lot of bad technobabble. I can enjoy a movie that has magic as a key premise, but the technobabble kept bringing me up short, with a jolt: whoever wrote this thing doesn’t understand physics or biology, and for a movie that is ostensibly built around programming computers, they don’t have the vaguest notion of how those machines and skills work. It’s simultaneously magic + coding. Hated it.

What the heck is a “particle laser”? It’s central to the story, but it makes no sense.

Also, Jared Leto.

I shoulda stayed home.

The things we do for our kids

I’m back! We went to Madison, Wisconsin for our granddaughter’s 7th birthday, and also for brats (vegetarian style) and cheese curds and the fall colors and Kwik-Trip and all that Wisconsin stuff, but also, unfortunately, for a 7 hour drive each way, which was not fun. It was worth it, though, we wish we could see our kids more often, but most likely we won’t be seeing any of our children for another year, since winter is about to clamp down and trap us at home for a while.

Next weekend, we have closer plans. The No Kings rally is taking place right here in Morris on Saturday. You know, that communist antifa plot? The administration has it’s own characterization of the event.

n criticizing the rallies, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said, No Kings means no paychecks. No paychecks and no government.

I guess we’ll be poor if we don’t have any kings.

Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy stated separately that the expected millions of attendees will be part of antifa, paid protesters. It begs the question (of) who’s funding it.

Except that we’ll be paid for protesting! Or will we? I didn’t get a check for the last one.

I don’t think it’s at all a question who’s funding it. Even far-right wackos have noticed some data.

The name, on its face, is unobjectionable, even vaguely noble: “No Kings.” Americans, after all, did declare independence from one. But the historical overtones here mask something more recent and considerably less authentic. For all its revolutionary rhetoric, the ‘No Kings’ protest movement is not a spontaneous uprising of civic-minded dissidents. It is a coordinated, well-funded, tightly stage-managed campaign, backed by nearly 200 far-left NGOs, labor unions, and donor networks, many of which are directly tied to the Democratic Party’s power infrastructure. It operates not from the street, but from the spreadsheet.

200 far-left NGOs, labor unions, and donor networks? Why, that sounds like a distributed grass roots network with many donors. The organization actually lists all their donors, and doesn’t pay protesters.

I didn’t use a spreadsheet to figure out that I have to oppose this president and his incompetent cronies. I’m doing it for my kids.

Looks like we won’t have ol’ Jordan to kick around anymore

Jordan Peterson has been hospitalized with pneumonia and sepsis, which shouldn’t surprise anyone.

The psychologist, author, and bottomless fountain of tears is currently hospitalized and suffering from pneumonia and sepsis, as well as a spate of neurological issues that have apparently left him unable to regulate his emotions.

His daughter, Mikhaila Peterson, took to X to give the world an update on her father’s health, describing his recovery as “slow and scary”, and admitting “we’re not entirely sure what’s going on”.

The stated cause of Peterson’s ongoing neurological and physical deterioration is SIRS (systemic inflammatory response syndrome) caused by mold exposure. This is apparently the result of decades of living with mold, though it was recently exacerbated by exposure to an especially moldy environment.

Mold can be sneaky and dangerous, but he’s been a godawful mess for years — when he sprang on the scene, he was already deranged, and he’s only gotten worse. The stint in Russia in an induced coma probably didn’t help either.

Here’s hoping he recovers, but that someone realizes he is mentally unhealthy and should be spending the rest of his life quietly resting at home slurping his soup and shaking his fist at the TV.

His daughter thinks demons are involved, but this is a case where an undigested bit of beef might play a bigger role.

Group portrait for Saturday’s podish-sortacast

We have a podcast scheduled for Saturday at 4pm Central. We’re bloggers, so maybe you’re not familiar with what we look like, so here’s a portrait.

You’ll never guess which one is me.

The topic: in preparation for Halloween, we’ll be discussing what it is about scary stuff that we like. We’re partly inspired by this Ologies podcast on “What’s Creepy”, which is better than anything we can do, but we’ll try.

Jane Goodall has died

Jane Goodall was one of my earliest role models, and now she is gone.

The Jane Goodall Institute announced the primatologist’s death Wednesday in an Instagram post. According to the institute, Goodall died of natural causes while in California on a U.S. speaking tour.

Her discoveries “revolutionized science, and she was a tireless advocate for the protection and restoration of our natural world,” the Institute said.

While living among chimpanzees in Africa decades ago, Goodall documented the animals using tools and doing other activities previously believed to be exclusive to humans, and also noted their distinct personalities. Her observations and subsequent magazine and documentary appearances in the 1960s transformed how the world perceived not only humans’ closest living biological relatives but also the emotional and social complexity of all animals, while propelling her into the public consciousness.

Yeah, the 1960s…that’s when I was soaking in National Geographic and the pop-sci magazines, and that’s where I learned about her.